Bed of Roses

CHAPTER TWO OH, KARA

CHAPTER TWO

OH, KARA

N ot far in Jack’s estimation was very different from what that same phrase meant to Sam. She expected a couple or three blocks, but she’d already crossed five streets when she stopped to catch her breath. Standing in front of a closed gift store, she realized that sorry sumbitch was punishing her for not falling for his pickup lines. If she wouldn’t go up to his apartment and let him talk her into a bout of sex, then he would make her walk to the B it seemed from Nibbler’s facial expressions that he had read her mind and had definitely agreed with her on that particular idea. His tail started to thwack against the metal of the bar door.

She shook her head, forgetting her current mission. First, find this bed-and-breakfast and then a telephone. Those were her next steps, then dinner. Her own phone was currently as useful as a brick. Between car problems, being stranded in a little town, and then having to walk into said little ghost town as it was getting dark, all the key tropes were starting to fall into place to make a run-of-the-mill campy horror movie that in other circumstances, Sam would have secretly loved to have watched. Living the plot of a southern gothic horror—not as much fun as watching it in theaters.

Going to Mena is meant to be a fresh start. Everything is going to be better . Sam kept telling herself that. She was taking full control of her life and determined to write her own storyline from now on. It was time to be her best self—a side mission even to aim for “the clean girl aesthetic”—a term Sam learned at Christmas from her twelve-year-old niece, who knew more about her own skincare than Sam did.

The clean girl aesthetic was described as a mindful woman taking care of herself and investing in herself. Self-wellness rebranded with new words is still a good thing . Sam had vowed to implement it in her new life in Mena. Less booze. More yoga. Less burgers and fries. More salads and salmon. To see a child have a more intricate skincare routine than herself had made Sam reel for a bit. She had just turned thirty, which felt like a big thing, but not much had truly changed with the birthday itself. She had started using retinol. She washed her face every night now instead of sleeping in her makeup. That alone was quite a bit of growth already. Hangovers had become gnarlier by the year, so she figured the clean girl method of limiting liquor would have its benefits.

She didn’t truly drink that much—unless her heart was broken. There was something about a three-margarita night when a man had let her down that got Sam through the worst of it. There were two dives near Rosepine that Sam knew like the back of her hand from how many times Chase had let her down over the years, and this place seemed to sort of resemble her favorite heartbreak haunt back home. The similarities between this bar and her favorite dive culled when her eyes spotted a small, faded and peeling sign in the corner of the barred window.

NO SHOES, NO SERVICE

NO ANIMALS ALLOWED

NO LOITERING

Saved from bad decisions by the writing on the wall , a rueful little voice whispered in her head in Inez’s timbre, and she relayed the bad news down to Nibbler.

“Well, I’m currently loitering and you ain’t human. And only one of us has shoes on because the other wouldn’t wear our booties that we got at Christmas.” Nibbler’s ears dropped an inch on cue at this and Sam let out a soft giggle. “Either way, I don’t think we add up for their kind of company, so we don’t need theirs anyhow.”

Nibbler answered with a snort and stomped his front right foot down in the same motion. Sometimes, Sam could swear he understood her every word with the cartoonish way he would make his responses known.

Turning to move, a flicker of blue slid out of the far corner booth and drew Sam’s eye back up to the window to see Jack. He was stalking a denim-clad woman on the bar’s makeshift dance floor like a panther. She leaned in to get a closer look and recognized the woman as the scantily clad Kara she had seen pop up on his phone on the way into town. Once they reached each other, they left no room for Jesus, as Sam’s aunt Punkin would’ve said. They seemed to be completely lost in the way they were clinging to each other. Her denim shorts were cut so short that Sam could see the shadow of Jack’s finger flex and squeeze through the white cotton pocket as he cupped her bottom under its frayed hem.

Kara was almost as tall as Jack, her head resting easily on his shoulder. Her other hand raked through his hair as he spun her in lazy circles. Two drunk lovers in their own little world.

“Kara, you have no clue he was trying to get in my pants half an hour ago,” she mumbled to the glass.

That boy is a bullet headed for any warm bed he can find, and rest easy, baby, he’ll find it. Inez’s voice piped in from the back of her mind again.

They seem so happy together. And she doesn’t even have a clue that all the while, he’s sleeping around . The thought wandered through Sam’s mind and awoke something shaky in her, gluing her feet in place.

Did other people know Chase was running around on me before I found out? Was Liza Beth even the only one he ran around on me with, or were there more girls or affairs he just couldn’t land. She had found out the hard way that anything was possible with him.

Getting away from the town she grew up in helped her realize she never truly knew the man she loved. Or it turned out, her best friend since childhood either. She had thrown up after driving home and telling her mama, Wanette, about finding them together. Her dad walked in sometime mid-barf, and Wanette caught him up on what had happened. There was something oddly comforting in the way they hovered in the bathroom doorway, unsure how to help but not wanting to leave her alone through the throes of an emotional purging.

“Honey, if he can be taken from you, he can be taken from her. The way you win ’em is the way you lose ’em. He wasn’t no good man to begin with, and Liza Beth will see soon enough what she just got into with that Warner boy anyhow. One day that’ll be clearer to ya. Uh, I just know that don’t probably help much right now.” Her dad’s voice wandered off as her mother jumped into the conversation.

“Your father’s right. I never liked that Liza girl anyway. Her mama was always a snob ever since her husband bought that bank up in Junction City. Such uppity people, we should’ve known they weren’t no good.” Wanette started viciously scrubbing around the sink drain with a wet washcloth, keeping her hands busy in a frantic busy-bee manner that she adopted when she was worried. Sam had stared down into the toilet, waiting for the next wave to hit.

She pushed that painful memory to the side and figured that if she stuck around Homestead, she might tell the Kara girl about Jack. Or maybe she’d be smart and just keep her mouth shut. Let dogs be dogs, and don’t get in their way and get bit.

Her feet unglued themselves from the cement underneath her shoes, and each foot felt ten pounds heavier as she started back walking. “Mama’s Broken Heart” filtered out of the bar and followed her across the street and up another block. Sam had watched the video for that song so much she could almost see it playing out in her head as she walked. Good songs helped when the crazy brought on in the aftermath and the reality of everything began rearing its ugly head again.

Her thoughts were becoming as dark as the closed-up stores behind her as she walked on. “I gotta nip this pity party in the bud. If all I do is think about Rosepine, and that dumpster fire of a situation, I haven’t left at all and I haven’t really accomplished anything.” Her voice hitched up on the last word as she hiked her tote back over her shoulder, pausing to get it into a sturdier position before starting to walk again.

“Nibbler, why did you let me pack this much? I didn’t need to bring my whole library.”

The dog yipped in agreement and kept leading the way.

“It’s not far, my ass,” she groaned a few minutes later when she looked at the tree-crested hill in front of her and noticed that the sidewalk ended at the end of the block. The floral-patterned straps on her Vera Bradley bag began to slip. She pitched her left shoulder to keep it from hitting the ground, just as her pajama-packed purse fell off her right one.

Nibbler pulled his leash taut, continuing to urge Sam forward, his eyes trained on the flare of lamplight scattered on the sidewalk in front of a single lone shop one block away, the only storefront other than the bar with its lights still on.

Like two little moths in a dark world, they were both pulled to the light source intrinsically. What a natural thing it is to seek shelter and light when things get dark. The storefront looked welcoming, even at night.

This feels much less horror movie-ish , Sam’s nerves seemed to whisper.

Everbloom Book Shop was scrolled in a lovely looping script in gilded letters across the front window. She scoped the whole front but didn’t see any store hours on the window, and not on the door either. But she did see an old black landline phone inside, hung up on a tall cedar column in the middle of the bookshop, seemingly connected to the huge wooden front desk beside it. In the front corner sat two computers side by side on a long antique table with small mismatched leather armchairs in front of each screen. No alarm bells were ringing in her gut so far, and Nibbler seemed keen to go inside, already snuffling loudly at the doorjamb.

She jumped a bit when a bell above her chimed as she eased the door open. What an incredible place . Her first thought was simply that. Nibbler yanked Sam forward to inspect this new realm, sniffing everything he could. Hints of recently brewed coffee and old leather surrounded them both, adding to the cozy surroundings. The room was densely packed but tidy, full to its brim with its long rows of books lining every visible patch of wall. A little library of Alexandria, right here in Texas , she thought, taking a second to turn in a slow circle and soak it all in.

“Hey, we’re closing up!” a man’s deep voice yelled from the other side of a beaded curtain that must have led into a back room.

“Oh, yeah! Uh, sorry, I just need some directions,” she stammered back, snapping out of the reverie she had fallen in. “Also, I have a small dog. Is it alright if he’s in here?”

Heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor told her that someone was headed that way. She waited, expecting to be asked to leave due to Nibbler or closing time.

“You said you need directions? Where are you going this time of day?” The man stood at least six feet tall with thick dark hair that brushed his collar. Broad shoulders and chest, and arms the size of Sam’s waist, stretched the knit of his shirt. He took one look at Nibbler and came around the corner of the front desk to drop down on a knee. Big hands, she noticed, that dwarfed Nibbler as he petted the happy dog. “What a cute little puppy. What’s his name?”

“Nibbler, and I’m Samantha. I need to double-check if I’m headed in the right direction. I’m looking for the Rose Garden Inn? Or Rose Garden Bed-and-Breakfast? I didn’t think it would be this far from the auto shop. Jack said it was only a short walk.” She dropped her bags one by one with a thump onto the hardwood floor.

Nibbler rolled over on his back, and the dark-haired man briskly rubbed his stomach.

“Nibbler, you are a very good boy, aren’t ya,” he said as he straightened up and rounded the counter again and then walked back around with a doggy treat held up in his left hand like a baton.

Nibbler hopped up on his hind feet and did a goofy little dance.

“Okay, okay, that warrants two treats,” he said as he went back to grab another from the desk drawer before turning to Sam again. “I’m sorry about that. I was so happy to see a cute little dog, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Noah. To answer your question, it is another quarter of a mile up the hill to the B&B. You take a left out of here and it’s straight ahead. Good news is, you don’t have much farther in comparison to how far you’ve already come if you started at the auto shop. Why were you over there?” he asked and then abruptly stuck a hand in his pocket and cut himself off. “You don’t have to answer that actually. It’s none of my business.”

“My car broke down on the highway, and Jack Reynolds took me as far as the garage. I had to leave my car there, so”—she flopped her arms at her sides, pointing to her luggage all spread around on the floor around her feet—“here we are. I had figured it was only a couple of blocks to the B&B when Jack swore it wasn’t far.”

Noah was silent for just a moment before he spoke. “I’ll be closing up shop in another half hour. I live on out past Rose Garden, and I’d be happy to take you and Nibbler up there. It’s pretty much uphill all the way, and there’s no sidewalk after you leave this corner.”

Sam thought of Jack and the picture of Kara flashing on his phone. She had lucked out when he didn’t turn out to be a serial killer, but maybe she shouldn’t tempt fate again by getting in the second strange man’s vehicle that she had met today.

She eyed his face. He had warm eyes, a bit hazel, a bit brown, but the lighting wasn’t good enough for her to see them fully. But they were warm eyes in any light, wreathed with the new saplings of laugh lines that crinkled even when he smiled just slightly. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose—just a few. She could probably count them.

“Nope,” she blurted when she caught herself looking at him too long and took a small step back, “I just needed to make sure that I was on the right path. And to maybe charge my phone and call someone if I wasn’t. I’m glad to hear that there actually is a bed-and-breakfast at the end of this wild goose chase.” Her voice wandered off, and she looked over her shoulder at the front of the shop. “I saw that you have a couple of computers over there.”

“Treats for the dogs, free Wi-Fi for the humans, good for business.” Noah’s smile quirked higher on one side.

I would love to shoot my folks a message real quick to let them know I’m alright,” Sam said. “My cell phone has been dead now for a bit, and I gotta charge it before I can call them.”

Noah pointed to the black phone on the column. “Well, you came to the right place. This is a town of limited cell service, but my granddad put in the landline when this place was his. It keeps the lines open in the shop. I have unlimited long-distance. Use that to call them. It’s not anything fancy, but it works. I just couldn’t get rid of it.”

She was used to simply scrolling through recent calls on her phone and pulling her mom’s number up, so it took her a minute to punch the number in. If she had been alone, she would’ve done a jig when it started to ring.

“Hello?” Her mother’s tone had a load of concern in it.

“Mama, it’s Sam. I’m calling from a bookstore in Homestead, a little town up in northern Texas. My car broke down, but don’t worry, I’m safe and I’m about to check into a B&B. I’ll stay there until Patsy’s fixed.”

“I told you,” her father called out from somewhere behind her mama. “You wasted your money when you bought that thing. I told you that you should’ve picked something more dependable.”

“I guess you know that you are on speaker phone,” her mother said flatly.

“Do we need to come get you and haul the car back down here?” her father asked, his voice louder now, sounding as if he had gotten up out of his armchair and walked closer to where Wanette would be standing in the kitchen.

“No, no, no. I have enough money in my savings to fix whatever it is that’s wrong, and I’ll be fine,” Sam assured them, lying through her teeth. “It seems this place is even smaller than Rosepine. I’m just gonna crash at a B&B not far from this store until I can drive to Greta’s. Speaking of, I need to call her next. I’m gonna check into my room, charge my phone, and I’ll call y’all tomorrow with more details, okay?”

“Greta was expecting you an hour ago. She called to check in when she hadn’t heard from you. She said that she caught an early ride to the airport and was already on the way. That neighbor of hers, Mrs. Myra, I think that’s her name, I’m sure she can water the plants and take her mail in ’til you get there. We’ll call Greta back now and tell her what all happened. It’ll be okay. As long as you’re safe, it’ll all be fine.”

“Don’t put any more money in that car!” Her father shouted so loud that Sam yanked the receiver away from her ear with a wince.

“I love y’all. I got this handled, I promise.” Sam said her farewells and put the receiver back on its base. She turned to find Noah sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nibbler in his lap. “Thanks for letting me use your phone, and for the directions as well.”

“No problem at all.” Noah stood up with Nibbler draped over his arms like a limp rag. Sam sympathized with the little dog. With his short legs doing double time on the long walk from the auto shop, Nibbler had to be worn out. And after the emotional upheaval of the day, she was as mentally exhausted as her poor dog was physically.

“Alright, little one, we gotta hit the road and find you some dinner.” She rubbed the ear of the sleepy-eyed mutt, still splayed back into Noah’s right arm.

Noah picked up one of her bags from the floor with his free hand and draped it over her shoulder. When his fingertips slipped just a touch and brushed her bare neck, a wildfire traveled down her spine.

No, no! Absolutely not! Jack said that he has a girlfriend , Sam scolded herself. Off-limits, off-limits, off-limits, this is all off-limits! The sirens screamed and flashed in her mind, snapping her back a bit as he leaned closer to help load the second bag onto her other shoulder.

“Wait a minute. I got a better idea.” Noah stopped and turned to slip the bag onto the bigger suitcase’s handles, with Nibbler supervising from his roost in Noah’s other arm.

He moved around easily, homed in on the problem, solving her luggage ordeal as she just stood there, internally electrocuted.

Your body shouldn’t have reacted that way , her brain chided in a shrill, tinny voice.

This man could never know that his touch affected her like that. The flush that pricked her cheeks snapped her back to what he was doing.

“I did that too, and it worked ’til I hit a crack in the sidewalk.” Her voice sounded high-pitched in her own ears.

He stopped layering the duffel bags, took a step back, and looked at the bags as if calculating something. “Are you sure I can’t give you a ride or at least walk you up to Ms. Kathleen’s?” he finally asked.

“No, really, I can do it myself. Thank you again though for everything. You said your name was Noah, right?” she answered.

“Good memory. And anytime,” Noah said with a genuine smile. He set Nibbler on the floor, picked up a flashlight from the counter behind him, and held it out to her. “Take this.”

With a suitcase handle in each hand, Nibbler’s leash tied around her left wrist, and her purse over her other shoulder, she looked purposefully from one of her hands to the other and looked back up at him.

“I’d need a third hand,” she said.

Noah set the flashlight back down on the counter, picked up a dark blue necktie from his desk and tied the two suitcases together within a matter of seconds. “Now, you have a land train if you insist on walking. Are you one hundred percent sure I can’t give you a ride?”

“Nibbler and I can make it, but thanks again.”

He looked like he was going to say something more but instead turned to grab the flashlight again. She took it this time when he offered it to her. She held it up as if weighing the heavy thing.

“Is this for protection or what?”

Noah walked her to the door and held it open for her. “There’s nothing but woods growing between my store and Ms. Kathleen’s. It will give you some light. I guess it could serve as a club if any vicious raccoon or bloodthirsty possum thinks you and Nibbler here look like a treat. But that’s all you have to fear in those woods,” he said with a smile. “In all honesty, it just gets a bit spooky going up that hill in the dark by yourself sometimes.”

“It’s probably all those bloodthirsty possums.”

He smiled a bit wider and walked outside of the shop with her, letting the door chime and close behind him.

“You’re probably right, it’s most likely the possums.”

Sam got a whiff of something pleasant that was separate from the homey smell in the shop—old books, yes, but also a bit of sawdust, and a little worn leather and aftershave.

He has a girlfriend, walk away right now if you got one lick of shame in you.

Sam wished Inez was wrong, but that little voice from her old friend that normally sounded in her gut had always led her in the right direction, and she knew to listen.

“I’ll return your tie and this weapon of mass destruction”—she held up the hefty flashlight again—“before I leave.”

“I ain’t worried about that. I got too many ties anyhow. Same goes for flashlights. I keep ’em in every nook and corner of the shop—if the wind finds a way to blow through the trees, or if a mockingbird sings too loud in a nearby town, the electricity goes out. I try to stay prepared.” His warm eyes crinkled at the corners, and like an old map folding easily into the faint lines left from past creases, the small lines around his eyes deepened.

“Maybe I’ll see you around if you get bored and burn through the little library you got stashed. I can sense a bookworm when I meet one.” He nodded to the biggest duffel bag she carried, overfilled with her books, their pointy edges poking Sam in her ribs with each step.

She laughed a bit at this. “Well, if Buster can’t find the parts quick, I’ll come visit. I guess I won’t have anything better to do but read ’til I’m back on the road.”

He leaned back against the doorjamb. “I’m here from nine to seven most every day except Sundays. Since today is Valentine’s, a late order rush has me working longer than normal. But hey, turns out someone needed directions, and fate had it that I was here to help them.”

Sam hated that for a moment, and she wondered what his supposed girlfriend thought of him working late on Valentine’s Day.

“Well.” She cleared her throat and nodded to Noah. “Thanks again.”

He waved her off, and his hand settled back on the doorknob. “Anytime!” He was still smiling when she turned and started off in the direction of twinkling warm lights sprinkling through the dense pines like little stars beaming through the night sky.

Hopefully, that was the B&B up ahead. When Noah had pointed that way, her eyes had followed past his finger to a little windy gravel drive into the tree line. She only made it about twenty steps off the sidewalk’s end before she had to flick on the flashlight to keep from stepping into a second muddy pothole like she just had the first one, not ten seconds before.

He was right , she mused as she swung the heaviest suitcase over the next rough patch in the path with a grunt. The flashlight was a good idea.

One man cheated on her.

Another sent her out in the dark.

The third gave her light and his necktie.

“Let’s guess which one just might be trustworthy,” she muttered.

Sam stopped several times to catch her breath as she walked up the hill, the whole while her thoughts flip-flopping between green-eyed men and the blister on the back of her left heel, the ache beginning to push itself to the front burner of her mind now. How the hell did she find herself dragging overpacked suitcases up a gravel drive in the middle of the night in the middle of a nowhere town?

She was puffing out short breaths by the time she reached the lane that led up to the looming two-story house, and she realized it was the same place that she had spotted earlier on the drive into town with Jack. The memory of watching Gone with the Wind with her memaw when she was eleven came to her mind, specifically the moment when the camera centered on Tara, Scarlett’s family home, for the first time. Her eyes widened now in the same way they did back then when Tara came into view on the little twelve-inch TV on her Memaw’s kitchen counter.

A pickup honked as it passed behind her on the main road, and Sam turned as Noah stuck his hand out the window and waved, driving on to what Sam supposed was his house farther up the way. She waved back and trudged the last few steps to the white wrought iron fence that surrounded the front of the place. Sam pushed the gate open with the side of her smaller suitcase and shuffled into the front yard, dragging her baggage caravan over the cobblestone walkway, the wheels clunking out a staccato melody as Nibbler continued to lead the way.

With light from the moon and half a dozen fancy brass lanterns hanging every five or six feet from the gate to the house, she could easily see her way now. Bounded on both sides of the walkway in thick brambles were the reddest roses Sam had ever seen, all in different stages of blooming, some starting to bud, others heavy with blooms. They shone a brilliant bloodred under the brass light fixtures, and honestly, they almost looked fake.

Sam wondered just how many more bushes there had to be around the property to make it smell so strongly of roses. The walkway was well lit, but on past what she could see in the flashlight’s beam, darkness loomed for what seemed like forever before meeting the trees again at the back end of the property. Clouds shifted back and forth over the moon, offering soft shapes in the distance. She turned off the flashlight and slipped it under her arm as she breathed in the scent that clung on the brisk night air. Roses and white pine, she guessed, maybe something else underneath, but the closer she got to the house, the thicker the scent of roses became. The fine trace of pine sap underlined the heady floral smell and slipped like a ribbon from the top of the aroma as the pines fell farther into the background.

“No wonder this place is called the Rose Garden,” she whispered as she walked up the front steps and reached up to grab the heavy brass knocker. Before she could even touch the lion’s head, the door flew open. Sam had imagined a tall, angular, gaunt older gentleman in long tails would answer a door like this—a butler trained to look down his nose at guests for showing up outside of visiting hours, demanding a calling card in some bored drawl.

But an old woman of short stature jerked Sam back to the present when she swung the big door open instead.

“I’m Kathleen Scott, and I’ve been expecting you,” she said as she adjusted a strap of her bibbed overalls.

Stumped and shocked, Sam blurted out, “How?”

“Come in.” The lady ignored the question and motioned her inside with a flick of her wrist. “Samantha, is it? Noah called and said you were on the way. Small Texas towns thrive on gossip, honey. Buster told his wife, Allie, about you and your dog when he got home. She made a couple of calls, and soon all the phone lines were on fire about a redheaded woman whose hot rod gave out on the highway and is stuck here in Homestead now. Then Noah called. So, I’d guessed you’d be here soon enough. I have a room all ready for you.”

“Wow! I knew word traveled fast in a small town, and I guess for once I’m glad it did. Thank you for getting a room ready for me.” She went back down the steps to start pulling her things into the house. “Most folks call me Sam, this is Nibbler.”

“Oh, just look at this sweet little baby.” She bent down with a nimbleness that surprised Sam and started scratching Nibbler’s neck around his collar. His tail picked up speed when her nails found the sweet spot near his sternum.

“My precious Waylon died two years ago. He was just a few months old when I found him, all ate up with ticks in a ditch out near the McClemmins’ farm. He was just a purebred mutt if I ever saw one, but in all my years, he was the best dog I’ve ever had. He’s buried in the backyard. You’ll have to see his tombstone while you are here. It’s shaped like a soup bone. I imagine half the toys and bones I bought for him are buried all over the yard. You can have a little scavenger hunt while you’re here, Mr. Nibbler.”

“I can’t imagine what it looks like during the day out here. I could smell the roses before the house even came into view. I was surprised to see them blooming this early,” Sam said.

“I’ve worked with them for more than forty years to make them hearty enough to leaf out and set some buds by Valentine’s Day. We clip the good ones each year—they are a specialty at the flower shop,” Kathleen said.

“She grows them, and I sell ’em.” A lady even shorter than Kathleen appeared from a room to the right. “I’m Loretta, and while Kathleen piddles around with her roses and runs this place, I make the arrangements and take care of the flower shop in the old carriage house.”

“And she lives here now that she’s got so old she can’t climb the stairs in her old garage apartment,” Kathleen added plainly.

Loretta shook her finger at Kathleen. “Be careful calling me old, Katty. You’re just as old as me.” The little woman turned back to look up at Sam. “Our front room girl had to quit today. Are you interested in a little job while you are here? I’ve put out the word that I need some help, but only Brenda Lewis has applied.”

From the look Loretta shot Kathleen at the mentioning of Brenda and the extra flair Loretta put on the lady’s name, Sam guessed that Brenda was a no-go as a candidate for whatever this job was.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Kathleen stood up straighter and stared at Loretta. “You will not poach her from me! I was going to see if she’d fill in for Vivian until her car was fixed.”

“Fill in for what? What’s a front room girl?” Sam asked, looking from one woman’s stubborn expression to the next. She had walked through the front door no more than a minute before, and already she had been slung midway into a sales pitch for two new jobs from a couple of old women bickering back and forth in the expansive wainscoted hallway. She hadn’t even gotten a room or put her luggage down just yet. And she needed to pee and eat and get some sleep so her brain would function right.

“It’s easy work. I need someone to run the register, take orders when customers call in, talk to everybody when they come in,” Loretta explained. “We’ve got two funerals and a wedding on the books for this coming week. I’ll be spending most of my time making floral arrangements. All I’m saying is, I need more hands on deck than Kathleen does right now.”

They were as different as night and day in their looks. Loretta was snack-sized, couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds if she was soaking wet and had rocks in the pockets of her cobalt blue velour jogging suit. Little frame, big hair. Sam figured that she could hide a kitten in Loretta’s 1960s-style bouffant.

A bound of gray hair that had been teased and sleeked tidily into shape gave her a few inches more height than Kathleen, and there was not a hair out of place, Sam noted. Loretta reminded Sam a little of her memaw. The faint smell of Elnett hair spray that wafted around the little woman took Sam back to her childhood, spraying the sticky starchy mess on her own hair when her memaw was in another room. It smelled like childhood spent with her grandparents compressed into a can.

Kathleen might have been two inches taller than Loretta sans her bouffant, but neither woman reached Sam’s shoulder.

Kathleen’s faded overalls had a patch on one knee and a tear on the other, her white T-shirt smeared with the day’s dirt. Her salt-and-pepper hair, heavy on the salt, was scraped back and twisted into a French roll. A few strands had escaped, and she had tucked them behind her ears.

Sam felt instantly at home here. Maybe it was because Kathleen reminded her of Inez Walters, her elderly friend from church, the wise old sage, as Sam jokingly referred to her friend before she had passed. Inez always had Skittles in her purse to sneak Sam during the service when she was younger, and she invited her and her parents to Sunday dinner often as Sam grew up.

You can trust these women. They are good people. Inez’s voice was so clear that Sam scanned the room to see if she was really there.

“Why can’t I do both, like the other woman did?” Sam asked.

“Do you know how to set a table or cook breakfast?” Kathleen asked.

Before Sam could even answer, Loretta hopped in, “How about running a cash register?”

“I guess I can do both, but I literally just met you two. I’m sorry, I just don’t get why y’all are both offering me a job. Why did the other woman leave?”

“She gave her notice three weeks ago because she is expecting her first and didn’t plan to work after the baby was born,” Loretta said. “But she went into labor early and delivered a sweet little girl last night. I thank the Lord that baby held off until after Valentine’s Day. And that it’s healthy, of course,” Loretta plopped in at the end.

“And we trust Noah,” Kathleen added.

“What has he got to do with anything?” Sam asked.

“He’s a good man, and he says that you are good people,” Loretta answered.

“I was only in his store a few minutes,” Sam argued.

“He’s not a wizard or anything, but he’s pretty good at reading people. He’s honed that over the years. He said that you called your parents and talked kindly to them, and that anyone who loves a dog like you do has to be a fine human being,” Kathleen replied with a little smirk. “And if he’s wrong for the first time, I can just kick you out the same door you came in.”

“You’ll get room and board too. It’s minimum wage but it ain’t hard work and payroll goes out each week on Fridays.” The little lady wiggled her drawn-on eyebrows as she drew out the word Friday , pronouncing it “Fry-Dee.” “And of course, if you leave before then, we’ll tally up your hours.”

The whole scene was uncanny and more than a little surreal. She asked herself the question she had been asking all day. How did she end up here? Did God plan all these little kinks in her journey to lead her here? Hadn’t she asked him for a new start and a good distraction? Is that what this was?

She thought of how Buster’s tone changed once he looked under the hood earlier today. She could make money while she waited, help these ladies out, get free room and board and save there too. She weighed her options and bit her lip. Or she could drain her bank account on Patsy, wait around doing nothing, and just pray she had enough money to cover all the parts and labor. God shuts doors and opens windows , she thought as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sometimes climbing through the window is the best option when the house is on fire.

She took one more breath and finally nodded. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here, but Buster down at the auto shop said it could be several days before he found all the parts to fix my car. So, I will gladly take the job.” She added after a pause at the end, “You know, for now.”

She could have squeezed Noah for giving her such a glowing recommendation, but then she remembered the sparks. Maybe she’d just write him a thank-you card or buy some books from him while she was there.

“Have you had supper yet?” Kathleen asked. “We were about to sit down to some tomato soup and grilled cheese on my town-renowned sourdough bread.”

“We haven’t had anything since around noon. That sounds delicious,” Sam answered.

“I’ve got dog food left over from when my Waylon was still with me, so we’ll feed the pup too. We’ll get Nibbler some nibbles.” Kathleen seemed pleased with her play on words. “After we finish dinner, we’ll put your things on the lift and send y’all up to the second floor.”

“The lift?” I asked.

“The dumbwaiter,” Loretta interjected. “In the back of the kitchen. Kathleen’s folks had it put in when they built this place over a hundred years ago.”

“My great-grandmother entertained a lot back in the days when this place was first built,” Kathleen explained. “The hired help used it to take things up and down. Laundry, room service, and that kind of thing.”

“It’s handier each year since Kathleen’s just getting older and older.” Loretta sighed theatrically.

Kathleen narrowed her eyes into slits. “Enough of that.”

“You know I love you more than I do sex,” Loretta teased.

“You ain’t got any of that in so long, I’m surprised you still remember what that word means.” Kathleen laughed and Loretta cackled as they both went about setting the table for Sam to join them.

“Besides, back when you were younger, knowing you and your prowess round town—well I can bet my left foot you might’ve said that to me, but there was no way it could’ve been the truth. I remember the younger wilder Loretta.” Kathleen had a light sparking deep in her eyes as if a certain funny memory had come to mind.

“Oh, I remember her too,” Loretta responded with wry smile.

“I think we’d both need to buy a how-to book to even know how to go about that stuff these days.”

“Hey now, Katty, speak for yourself!” Loretta scolded and folded a paper towel in half and slid it under Sam’s dish.

Sam hopped in and offered, “The old saying is it’s like riding a bicycle: once you know how, you never forget it.”

Kathleen let out a full throaty laugh at this, holding one plate in her hand as she turned to the women and shrugged. “One thing I never learned how to do was ride a bike.”

“Aw, well, that’s sad, Kathleen. Bikes are fun, maybe you should hop back on one and give it a try some time,” Loretta said, wiggling her painted-on eyebrows again before winking. All three women broke into laughter, and the dining room chandelier seemed to shiver from the uproar of the women.

Oh, yes, ma’am, Sam was going to love it at the Rose Garden.